


Manifest

by The_Grynne



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grynne/pseuds/The_Grynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bonny was an indifferent pirate and seaman at best, in addition to other inconveniences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manifest

The wanting, in the purest abstract, is a familiar beast: coiled rage in her fingers, an itch in the crannies of her skull-bone. Appeasing it takes blood.

Her husband’s, in this case.

The more frightened the pigs were, going under the cook’s knife, the quicker they weakened and bled out when their throats were cut. _Mindful of your dress, Miss Anne, this here one’s a gusher_ , Jennie used to say, letting Anne watch at a remove, before the carcass was carried away to be stuffed and readied for her father’ dinner table.

Men are not so different.

When Jack returns from the tavern below, a fresh bottle and two glasses in hand, he stares a moment at the muck on the floor before gingerly stepping around it.

 _Was this necessary, my love? Good crew is hard to come by in this zoo._ Words aside, Jack does not sound all that put-out. James Bonny was an indifferent pirate and seaman at best, in addition to other inconveniences.

 _He knew about us,_ Anne says simply. _He said he would go to Vane tomorrow, say that you were thinking of deposing him. He wanted Vane to have you killed._

Her nightdress is ruined, good only to be shredded for rags; she strips and drops it into the basin. Pouring more water from the jug over her bloody forearms, she feels Jack’s coat settle over her red-speckled shoulders, and then Jack himself, warm at her back, enfolding her in the scent of his tobacco. She’s shivering, but it’s not from cold — or panic — it’s the wanting, momentarily sated. She wanted James gone, and then she made it happen. She wants Jack, too, in the same corner of her heart that knew before to want only inarticulately — that understood only one word, which was _freedom_. The wanting made her go for the jugular.

_You needn’t worry, anyway. I can take his place on the Ranger._

She stiffens, indignant, at the sound of Jack’s laugh, muffled against her ear, but then he says, _You’ll be a better pirate than he could ever hope to be. It’s a good thing, love, that I have you to safeguard my interests._

 _Our interests,_ she says, sucking the taste of iron from her lips.


End file.
